Chapter 109 Joe Collins' Difficulties
"Someone sent Vincent a photo of a car accident this morning, saying I was dead," Elsa said hoarsely after a long silence.
She had seen the photo. The victim's face was blurred, but the white hoodie was just like the one she owned, and the body shape and hairstyle were eerily similar.
Because of this, Vincent believed it and fainted from grief.
Elsa was curled up in Luke's brown trench coat, her eyes and nose red, her eyelashes quivered, and her cheeks, pallid and delicate, seemed almost translucent in their fragility.
Luke didn't say anything. He just moved closer and let Elsa rest her head on his chest.
Usually, when Elsa woke up from nightmares, she would fall back asleep faster listening to Luke's steady heartbeat. He hoped this might help now.
Elsa nestled closer to Luke's heart. Curled up in his arms, she looked like a wounded young animal, fragile and heart-wrenching.
Luke rubbed his chin against the top of Elsa's head.
"I'm here," Luke said, holding Elsa tighter.
"Luke, you're here too!" It was Margaret's voice.
Margaret had probably just finished her discharge paperwork. She stood in front of Luke, looking delicate and pitiful.
Margaret's father, Joe Collins, followed behind her, his eyes no longer friendly when he looked at Luke.
"Uncle Joe," Luke greeted politely, since he had been close to the Collins family since childhood.
"Margaret, let's go home," Joe said coldly, not even glancing at Luke.
In Joe's eyes, Luke had wronged Margaret and caused a scandal.
Luke gave an awkward smile, while Elsa didn't even spare a single glance at Margaret or Joe.
"Luke, are you both okay? Why are you here?" Margaret asked, her eyes filled with pity as she looked at Luke and Elsa, who were huddled together, even though she knew the answer.
Seeing how carefully Luke was taking care of Elsa, Margaret felt a surge of hatred.
"Elsa's brother is in critical condition," Luke said simply, feeling it wasn't his place to discuss Elsa's family matters.
"Luke Taylor, if you still consider me your uncle, listen to me," Joe said suddenly, his face stern. "You are the heir to the Taylor family. You could be more excellent. Don't ruin yourself for a moment of folly."
Joe referred to Luke and Elsa's marriage as a 'moment of folly,' implying that being with Margaret would be a powerful alliance.
Elsa, feeling down, didn't react to Joe's words.
"Mr. Collins, I am free to make my own life choices." Luke's demeanor was indifferent, as he simply embraced Elsa's shoulders in a soothing manner.
"You may have your own life, but you shouldn't degrade yourself by being with a girl from the lower class! She even worked as a barmaid, bringing shame upon you!" Joe's tone grew harsher.
Just as Luke was about to retort, Elsa sat up straight.
A smile appeared on Elsa's previously expressionless face, her eyes cold.
Luke knew Elsa was angry!
Sure enough, Elsa crossed her legs and said mockingly, "Mr. Collins, they say good girls aren't afraid of not finding a husband. Is your daughter so unwanted that you're desperate enough to start selling her in the hospital?"
Elsa's tone was sharp, making Joe's face turn red with anger.
"How dare you speak like that! Is this how you talk to your elders?!"
"Elders? Just being old doesn't earn you respect. Do something worthy of respect first," Elsa sneered, raising her voice. "You and Margaret who belittle others to elevate yourselves, working together to destroy a married man's family. Is this the so-called high society etiquette?"
Elsa didn't speak much, but when she was truly angry, she was formidable. Luke had seen her argue and had to admit that her eloquence and imposing manner were impressive.
But Luke had been close to Margaret since childhood, so he couldn't let Elsa go on a rampage. So he pulled Elsa back into his arms.
"Elsa, Uncle Joe is an elder. Say less," Luke had to say something conciliatory.
Elsa turned and glared at Luke.
"Luke Taylor, this is the wife you chose! You disappoint me!" Joe's face was flushed with anger as he left. Margaret remained, her eyes filled with tears.
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